


Pumpkin Carving

by eJ121



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (But feels female around Sans), (Though in moments of self-doubt may revert to feeling like a 'they'), Chara is technically genderfluid, Chara makes puns too, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Happy halloween, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I need to sleep now, May lead to other oneshots at some point, Oneshot, Pumpkin carving, References to Canon, References to Depression, Sans Makes Puns, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 13:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8448433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eJ121/pseuds/eJ121
Summary: Chara tries to carve a pumpkin.Sans tries to help.
Fluff, humor, and then a combination of hurt and comfort for both ensues.





	

There were so many ideas. So many brilliant shapes, perfect designs that she could, should, carve onto the face of the pumpkin. She had an image in her mind of what it should look like; one clearer than the pure water in heavens springs.

But what sat there on the counter was a pumpkin, without a mark, without a scratch on its surface. Perfect, juicy, round, but not haunting or eye-catching, as it should be -- it was, in all shapes and forms, a vegetable.

Touching the blade was, to some extent, a comfort; knowing that an inch away was something so powerful, so absolute that it could end the most arrogant and the most pious in the same very instant. It had always made her feel a little more at ease.

But then there was the feeling of the phantom dust on her sleeves, her hands; the weight of the pain and the death on her chest.

That was where the unspeakable and undeniable truth lay; the truth of her nature.

The truth, that she, Chara, was the demon that comes when you call their name, and that they should be burning in hell, _especially_ on a lovely day like this one.

With a shaking hand, they set the knife down on the board. That was not today.

Sans was alive, Papyrus was out doing public services, Undyne and Alphys were on tour in Japan with Mettaton (who still hadn’t given her a fifth rematch, as he’d promised). She bit her lip at that thought. She couldn’t wait to dance the smug grin off his metal visage.

It was when she was expecting it the least that the reassuring, boned hands, and the warmth of his familiar soul, his gentle magic, a perfect contrast to her fiery red in its gentle, watery blue, resurfaced behind her. Just like usual.

“need some help?” He was wearing that shit-eating grin of his that he always wore when he was about to make a pun. She didn’t even need to turn round to know.

She turned, making sure to keep one hand on the surface. _“Sans, if you make a pun right now, that pumpkin might not be the only one with a **facelift** by tomorrow.” _ She teased, pulling him closer to let him know she wasn’t in any way serious about it.

Sans chuckled, “ **knife** to know.” He retorted with a gentle caress that let a smile across her face. Then, before she could return fire, he continued, “i’ll **face** up to my crimes. guilty as charged.”

Looking directly into his sockets, watching their magic as it ebbed and flowed with the fluidity of water, Chara relented, letting him in for a lengthy and passionate embrace, and then spun him right into the worktop.

She exhaled, holding him, feeling his breath, its speed. She wasn’t unaffected either though. Her heart was racing too. _“You’re too good at that. I’ll have to pay you back later, but…”_ She paused to allow him to run a hand through his hair, _“I’ve got business to attend to.”_

She felt the interruption rising in his throat, so turned, stopping him, _“ **royal** business… by which I mean **royally** important business.” _

Though he tried to cover it, Chara still didn’t fail to notice Sans’ snort in the silent room. She held back the grin that spread over her face and took the knife back up. It was time to do this.

Of course, it was also the right moment for all of the painful memories to resurface, and the feeling of dust and blood – the feeling that made her heart twist inside her, her soul want to crack itself open and shatter over the floor – to spread.

The blade met the chopping board with a clatter as the hand and its owner shot back, falling over their own feet until they crashed into the counter on the opposite side of the room.

Their mind raced. How many people had they hurt? How much wrong had they done, and yet part of them was allowing itself to believe it had a happy ending? How was that even possible? People like them didn’t get happy endings. The villain always met a horrible death in the fairy tales and the books…

The skeletons gentle, soft arms caressed her in a soothing way, grounded her in the present until her breathing slowed and her eyes, glowing red from fear, shifted to a softer, more gentle red that both recognised as affection.

She nuzzled against him, _“What would I do without you to anchor me in the present like this?”_ She sighed sadly. They both knew the answer to that question. It wasn’t exactly pretty.

She smiled, leaning into him, _“Will you, the great, handsome warrior, aid me to defeat the vile, perfidious foe I see before me?”_ She grinned, taking note of the fact he was blushing and laughing at the same time, _“It may look to be a vegetable, but alas, it is no mere simpleton pumpkin, it is a devil among us, and has defeated many a noble challenger…”_

Sans was clutching his non-existent stomach, “oh god, char! you are so… so-” His palm slapped into his forehead as he erupted into laughter again, “oh man, i can’t breathe!”

She covered her own laughter with a hand to her mouth, _“What? I’m only overacting. I just want you to make the pumpkin into a **vegetable**.” _ She composed herself, barely. _“I can’t exactly imagine why that’d **tickle your ribs**.”_

It was these moments – when they didn’t have any walls, any tensions, any dangers between them, when maybe, if only just for few seconds, Chara might be able to pretend that her relationship with the skeleton was somewhere close to normal – that she enjoyed by far the most.

She sighed sadly. It was the moments immediately after, when she had been reminded as to how strange and how unorthodox their bond really was, that she hated the most.

So in those few seconds lay a bittersweet interchange between romance and mourning, an interface between heavenly love and old inner demons.

It was the skeletons turn to take her off guard this time. He held her from behind. One arm laying gently around her waist, the other caressing her hand until it fell into gentle submission, then taking it, guiding it to the blade.

He leaned into her, he was smiling, “i’m honestly quite surprised. you’re quite strong, i know from personal experience, so it must be somethin’ tough to beat you…”

Chara sighed, _“Maybe I just wanted you to come over and hold me like this. It does feel rather nice after all.”_ She manoeuvred herself to give him a gentle peck on the cheek, and then watched with a grin as her handiwork bloomed into fruition and a deep blue blush spread over his features.

Sans huffed, reigning the blush back in, “someone’s lustful this evening.” He chuckled, “you always were more active when you were scared…”

It was Chara’s turn to flush now, for her a vibrant red rather than a royal blue. Perhaps the wrong way round, for their social positions at least, _“I am not **scared** of a pumpkin Sans.” _

Sans smiled, leaning in closer, “prove it.” He could feel the way her heartbeat quickened. He still had her hand, and with it, her wrist. He grinned. He wasn’t often wrong about his partner’s feelings.

Chara took in a breath, _“Okay, fine. Maybe I don’t like holding knives in a silent, empty room. Maybe it brings back bad memories.”_ She sighed, _“I know, it’s a stupid, ridiculous fear, but-”_

“i feel like that sometimes too, y’know?”

Chara felt her lip quiver. Had Sans been feeling like that when he was alone with her, had he been waking in the middle of the night to a fear crawling in his gut, to a nightmare of another life, one where they’d been on opposite ends of a dimly lit hallway, silhouettes against a golden background.

Had it been like this for a while, and yet she hadn’t noticed? Was she really that bad a partner? That she couldn’t comfort him when he needed a shoulder to cry on?

She didn’t even notice she was crying until he wrapped his arms around her and held her against his chest. Letting her nuzzle into the warm jacket he often wore around him. Something about the jacket, and its musty ketchup cologne smell had a remarkable ability to calm her down.

Sans sighed, letting her sob into him. He knew the feeling of thinking you were terrible and wrong, thinking you were the worst person you had ever met. But he also knew that every single time he’d felt like that, she’d had it worse. After all, he’d never killed himself, had he?

When Chara’s sobbing subsided, he carefully, gently directed her gaze up to his face, then, looking her in the eyes, which glinted a soft sapphire in the half-light, smiled and spoke, “c’mon char, how ‘bout we do it together.”

Chara gave a small, weak laugh. That’s all she was, weak. But then again, was that really a bad thing. If she’d been _strong_ , then everybody would be dead. Maybe it was better to show weakness, to relent, at the right moments…

She smiled back, _“Sure. It’ll help us both, right?”_

Sans sighed. Whatever had started her thoughts must have been pretty powerful this time, given she wasn’t even willing to take her own initiative. Still, given the events of the last time, it could be worse.

He took her hand once more, this time leading it gently over to the blade. He felt the way her breathing quickened and her heart beat just a little faster and reassured her, “it’s fine char. take it one step at a time. i’m here, we’re all here. it’s fine.”

Chara sighed, moving it forwards into the pumpkin with too little effort. It should be impossible to do something so absolute with so simple a movement. A blade gives too much power to its owner; the power to hold a life in their hands; a power that should only be reserved for faultless gods.

The blade moved slowly down, and she closed her eyes. It had always been therapeutic, cutting through flesh. Be it her own or someone else’s, it was reassuring to know that nobody was above pain, nobody was above death, and to feel pain, to feel fear and exhaustion and self-doubt. Those emotions that kept her grounded.

Love, hope, respect. Those were scary feelings. They were undefinable, fluctuating feelings that had no beginning and no end. No logic, and no reason.

Indeed, she could not control who she loved, or how hard her heart yearned to be with him, despite the argument of her head that _they_ were Chara, and _they_ were just a demon, that nobody, especially not him, who _they_ had hurt and wronged so many times in so many ways, would ever love _them_ back. That pursuing her desires would only hurt her.

Those feelings terrified her, because they were so much stronger than fear and pain, because they could control her, drive her over the edge of deep chasms like they had for her and Asriel. The monster she’d only wished to save, but for her own love of him, had ended up destroying.

Everybody she loved got hurt. That was the rule. So any feeling of love terrified her, as she’d come to see love and hope as the forbearers of loss and despair.

The blade turned, cutting back to meet its starting point. Mostly courtesy of Sans, for Chara could not bring herself to so much as force her wrist in any direction at all. Her heart raced. Sans was right there and he only had 1HP. If her finger so much as slipped, she would hurt him. She would kill him.

She pulled back, slammed the blade against the worktop. Gasping for breath, she turned, _“I… I can’t. I just keep thinking I’ll… I’ll have to feel dust on my hands again, have to feel- have to- to-”_ She broke down into hysterical sobs as Sans embraced her.

He sighed. He couldn’t believe himself that someone so wracked with such potent emotion could even raise a blade to harm a meek Whimsun, let alone Papyrus, Toriel, Asgore, Undyne or Mettaton (Ok, maybe he could understand hurting Mettaton. He’d do it on a bad day and he knew the guy!)

How her personality, how her emotions survived the pain of slaughtering everyone, how they remained intact even in the final corridor at LV 19 was beyond him. He could have brought in every human from the surface in her place, and he was sure that not a single one would have made it.

She was his miracle. His _Angel_. So it was only right he be her knight in shining armour when she needed him.

He held her close. “it’s fine. you’re so brave and so strong to go up against your fears like that.” He felt satisfaction as her sobs slowed down “i’d have given up.”

The way she looked up at him, meeting his eyes after all that made him want to hold her tighter. He could see the fear and the pain inside her, but also the love and the hope that warred with them in her heart. He didn’t know anyone who had such strong, passionate, powerful emotions, or such a capacity for love, empathy, and compassion as she did.

Maybe he was the monster. Maybe his soul was made purely from love, hope and compassion. But somehow it was her who was able to summon it more strongly. Therefore, he didn’t know anyone, human or monster, who was more worthy of his love.

The war in her heart came to an end, and Sans found himself encased in soft, loving arms and pulled into a full embrace. She held him close and he could feel every bit of emotion she felt, every last one, as brightly as the sun on a summer day.

Chara sighed, _“I love you, Sans.”_

Sans replied with a return of her embrace. He didn’t need to say what he felt, for he knew she felt it. She had the ability to sense magic. “i love you too, chara.”

She leaned into him, _“I don’t want to let go.”_ Then let out a shaky breath, _“But someone has to carve the pumpkin, right?”_

Sans grinned, “no need.”

He could sense her anticipation, and almost feel the way her heart fluttered in tandem with his own, the way both of their breaths quickened and deepened at the feeling of the intimate embrace, extending beyond physical existences into mental thoughts.

She giggled, inching closer in a way that clearly and overtly encouraged him, _“Why not?”_

He smiled back, “you can never take these things at **face** **value** anyways.”

Chara moved forward and pressed herself right against him. It felt, sometimes, that just stating her adoration, even accompanying it, was not enough. But that somehow, despite that, both of them knew the extent of the great recess that would lie in the other’s heart should they lose them.

She brought him into a strong kiss, pressing gently, without ferocity, despite the desire of her heart to thrust herself upon him, heeding to its equally potent desire to keep him safe. To not lose him. Never again. No matter what.

She smiled.

_“I love you Sans.”_

He smiled back.

“love you too char.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this. (I really need to go to sleep now - it's like, 2am!)  
> Sorry this is a little late for Halloween. I started it on Halloween at midnight, so... ;-)
> 
> Please don't forget to comment or leave kudos if you like this, and don't forget to check out my other fics:
> 
> [Sanswich:](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8264530)  
> A similar oneshot to this one, featuring both Chara and Sans.
> 
> [The Fall of An Angel:](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7884157)  
> My 51 Chapter full work that may provide just a little bit of deeper background to these two. (The sequel - Moth to a Flame should be starting to post soon!)


End file.
